An Indecent Proposal

[Torin Kilvin]

12 Ash, 123

Two Weeks Prior

Times being as they were, it paid to be capable of accessing all the abilities in ones arsenal against what dangers might be lurking around every corner, in every shadow. Kilvin's Forge had a reputation for having begun to sell items that would allow the continued use of aether despite whatever it was The Eclipse was unleashing upon the world. The business had had schematics for lamps and other devices ready the moment it was discovered that certain dragonshards were what would help. This showed either a high level of intuitive creativity or foreknowledge; gossip went both ways on the matter. Whatever had led to the happy situation for the business it had been all that it's owner could do to keep up with the orders of his patron House and supple those who could afford the aid of his devices outside of it.

After nearly a year without relief from the lack of aether access the call for Torin's services seemed to be growing, rather than petering off. He had heard talk that the trouble might never be fixed and people ought to get used to the way thing were and adjust to the new reality. Whether that was true or not he had begun selling the smaller, easier and quicker to make brooches and rings as cheaply as he could manage as soon as his apprentice, Timon, had come up with the idea. He gave put what commission he allowed himself to make on them aside for the lad so that, once his apprenticeship was at and end, he could do whatever he wanted with his life. It felt only right, to both the people of his city and Timon.

So, when a nobleman of about twenty-five entered his shop to request a the very charm and insisted on paying more than the quoted price for it, Torin was glad of it. The specifics of what he wanted were worked out and recorded and if the man lingered for a time examining the Illumite Lamps as well as the example brooch the smith couldn't begrudge him the chance to feel his Runes again after what had probably been some time. It wasn't unusual for the highest class to have Runes, and Torin knew from personal experience how uncomfortable it was not to be able to access them when he was outside the light of a shard. He did not turn his own Semblance on the man, as he considered it rude, but in the initial moments he had gleaned enough accidentally to see that the magic was one that they shared.

Aurin had arrived while the man was still browsing and Torin, who had been having some rather shamefully licentious thoughts about the redhead before his customer had come in perked up immediately, like a hound left at the house whose master has returned. He greeted the fox-faced man familiarly but not inappropriately and they spoke of nothing important even as other parts of them were communicating in other ways. It was only a few moments after Aurin's entrance that the customer moved back to the counter and finalized his selection. Before he left he asked that, when he came to collect his purchase, Torin himself be on hand so he could ask questions and be shown the exact operation. It wasn't an unusual request and the blond accepted it easily.

~~~
Two weeks later the nobleman received a note that his runeforging was finished and a date and time when he could come pick it up. Torin had arranged it to be just before closing so he could answer the man's questions and provide the demonstration without any fear of interruption. Timon had been let go early, which left only Torin and Aurin alone in the shop. Turning to his man, as the boy half-scampered half-loped away with Huntress on his heels the young smith said,

"Can we go out tonight?" He was typically a homebody but did very much enjoy the occasional outing and it had been quite some time since both men had been free and in the same city at the same time. Stepping closer he lowered his eyes, making himself look the smaller of the two despite his height and reached out a hand to hold Aurin's slightly.

"I was thinking about the day we met, and the night after, at the Cab. We watched the stage and drank for a bit and then you took me into the back and got me high." He laughed, remembering how shy he'd been made him feel it a bit shy again. "Took me back to your cottage after. It'd be nice to do it again without being terrified the whole time."

He let this sit for a moment before adding, with a smile that came as close to wicked as he ever did,

"Except you could stay with me, and you wouldn't have to explain how to have sex."

[Aurin]

Aurin curated himself whenever he was in anything like public, and while Timon had left them alone for the nonce, he knew a noble client was en route and so he was playing the interested, connected buyer, perusing what was on display. The displays were something Timon carefully curated—enough to impress, but leaving them wanting more; and not leaving anything too precious too unguarded. He was about to say—not for the first time—that Sivan really ought to work on aphrodisiacs. Aurin had even offered to give him his seed to help him alchemize libido, though that had mostly been to see how the golden elf blushed prettily. But then Torin was there, being entirely unprofessional, and he just laughed at him—but also with him.

An eyebrow arched up like a bird's wing taking flight.

"And you aren't scared of me any longer, eh?" he asked, giving Torin's rough mitt a squeeze. "I'll have to remedy that." The latter came out more quiet, subtly menacing. But he was smirking again soon enough, considering a few things he could think of that might make Torin reevaluate how much he knew about sex.

Aurin, a past master at compartmentalization of his life, was perfectly happy with Torin being a homebody. He was the one Aurin came home to when he wanted a home to dwell in, and he was glad that Torin had Sivan—another homebody—on many nights when Aurin worked late, traveled, or the like. Likewise, Aurin had other lovers for other things, other places. It was truly a miracle that nobody had shown up on his doorstep with a red-headed bastard like him.

"Dinner en route to the Cab," he posited, "drinks with the courtesans, and then debauchery back with a hookah, hm? Then lead you back to the cottage by your boyish hard-on and have my way with you, eh? Why not?"

His smirk deepened, but he tended to loosen the reins on his sembling trick when it was just the two of them, so that even if he said something cruel in jest, Torin could feel what Aurin daren't say except in the dark.

But he was leaving soon for Solunarium and so he would have acceded to almost any wish his boy might communicate. Aurin was going to miss him—of course, he always did when he was away—and he tried to give conservative estimates of how long he would be gone on trips, whether to Zaichaer, Antiris, Haqs, or Gel'Grandal. He rarely gave him the details. Plausible deniability was a gift from thieves and con men.

"As soon as you conclude your business, then..."

[Torin Kilvin]

The customer returned promptly on time, but, as he approached, he came into the light of the lamps that graced the quaint little shop and, once in them, could instantly feel his rune again. Being without it had been deeply unsettling at first but as the year dragged on he, and many, many others, had had to come to grips with the loss and continue with their lives as best they could. Many artisans and crafts people that relied on runes to make their livings had been forced to shutter their shops, even after it had been discovered that Illumite pushed back the effects of the Eclipse, the shard had already been a rare and expensive one and, due to it's sudden intense usefulness it had become, for most, inaccessibly expensive.

How Master Kilvin (Was the title a conceit? He was far too young to bear it.) had gained access to a steady supply was anyone's guess, but his connection to House Leukos likely had something to do with it. That House was probably making more gold than they knew what to do with, and would continue for the foreseeable future. Perhaps they were worth looking into, alliances were always better when made before a rise. There was an unmarried daughter, if he recalled, and the heir had already produced his own heir, so they might be looking for a house alliance to suppose a move out from under the shadow of their own patron House. Yes, worth exploring.

While all these thoughts passed, unnoticed, through the back of his mind, his conscious was reaching out, as far as he was able, with his Semblance. Like stretching a long neglected muscle, it felt good and it hurt. The seeking wasn't looking for anything in particular, just feeling the aether again, which, after today, he would be able to do at will again, but what he found was...

More of what he'd sensed the first time he'd been to the shop, to make his order. The aura of the relationship between whoever the redheaded man was, and the runesmith filled the shop as he stood outside. Not wanting to alert either of them men to his spying he began to walk again, keeping close enough that he could often feel them without just hanging about just outside the door. The connection was intense and... yes, there was a distinct sense of ownership glowing off of the elder of the two. A smirk played over the noble's mouth as he gleaned snippets of what was being communicated between them.

Eventually, not wanting to be late, he gave up his game and came back to the door. Entering he was greeted by the smith, who was a tad flushed, but, of course, that wasn't surprising. Nothing about his appearance would have led anyone to believe he entertained the soft of submissive nature that he seemed to throw at the other man, but the oddity of it made it more intriguing.

He was shown his commission, which was, if anything, more exquisite than he'd asked for. The metal work and the shard were elegantly combined and the magic... Delving into the enchantment with his rune, even as simple as it was, was a lesson in subtle power. He reevaluated Master Kilvin as he asked his questions and was given careful answers. Perhaps he was older than he looked.

Eventually he left, turning into the Jeweled Arches and having a quick conversation, and exchange of coins, with a lad who sometimes kept and eye on people for him and then he went home.

~~~
Torin was at his ease now, when explaining his work, far more than he was when required to speak to strangers outside of it, but he was growing more comfortable even there. His confidence was beginning to spread to more than just his handiwork and it showed in the set of his shoulders, in his stride.

When the nobleman left he followed him to the door to lock up for the night and then turned back to his master.

"I'm going to have a quick wash and change. I can meet you for dinner if you've anything you need to do first, or... you can come watch?"

Aurin watching him was always nice. When Torin knew that watching was all that would immediately come of it, it did nice things to his insides. Aurin staying to tell him what to wear wouldn't be at all objectionable either.

[Aurin]

Aurin's aura closed off when he sensed the man right before he entered; it was a subtle thing, weaving, inverting, and focusing on reasonable thoughts arising in the situation until even if one thought they were sembling him, it was a curated look.

He enjoyed watching Torin wearing the mantle of Master Kilvin, confident now in his work in a way even Aurin hadn't expected would come so quickly. It was maturing, making him seem older, in that it was clear that he knew what he was about rather than puffing himself up to pass muster. Perhaps now that he was also Ser Torin of Stardew Valley had something to do with that, his small community looking to him for the occasional leadership even as they knew how to do their jobs.

The fox also made a point of readjusting the bracer on his left wrist. The nobleman was a sembler, and perhaps it would catch his mind's eye before he left. Torin had created many wonderful things in his short career.

Once the door was closed and locked and the man was on his way, Aurin got the feeling they would see him again. Torin had a fan. But his hands fell upon Torin's broad shoulders and he turned him toward the other door, kneading his knots as he pushed him forward.

"Not letting you out of my sight until morning," he promised, threatened. "I'll scrub your back. Wash your hair. Make sure you're thorough about it. Then we can have our little jaunt."

Were he about to fuck Torin, he might have vaulted them there. But since he was teasing him, drawing things out, he walked him through the yard and into the house. It was nice to smell the dirt and foliage, the kitchen and the faint scent of teenager and wolf, as they made their way up. And halfway up the stairs, he began to peel of Torin's clothes...

[Torin Kilvin]

In all good time, the blacksmith was bathed, tempted, dressed and fed. How his master was feeling he could only guess, but he had a fairly good chance at that after all the time they had spent together. It seemed like his whole lifetime, even though it had been only a few years by the measurements of time. Torin had been eighteen when he'd first come to the city just as Searing had turned to Ash. How could that be only three years ago? He'd been a boy when he arrived, and now, he was a man, so, in one way, he supposed, it had been a new lifetime.

Maybe that wouldn't make sense to someone else, but it made sense in his head as he pulled his cloak from its peg and wrapped it around his shoulders. He was dressed well, but not so well that anyone might look at him as a target, even in these hard times and his cloak, which would change to suit his mood if he concentrated, reflected that. Even so, a little embroidery crept around the collar as he opened the door and led the pair outside. Locking it behind him and slipping the key into a pocket that sealed over it made the home feel secure even if the real safety was provided by magics not of his own making.

The walk was so familiar to both of them that Torin was able to keep up the light banter they had begun around the bathing tub as they made their way. It was one of the busy nights for the Velvet Cabaret, light and music poured out of the open doors even from down the street as they approached and it was a surprise to Torin that, as they arrived and Aurin's sharp smile flashed at the door greeter gained them entry, he felt no trepidation, no nerves, only excited anticipation.

The great room that housed the stage and the main bar held too many people for him to continue to keep his Semblance running it would overwhelm him if he did and, besides, it was relaxing to just let it go quiet sometimes. Aurin would know, whether by his own rune or his instincts, if they were in any danger. It was like a miniature vacation, a time in which he need not worry. They found a good spot to stand where they could see the performances easily and Aurin could keep his back to a wall and then the redhead sent his boy to the bar for drinks.

As the sturdy blond youth moved off the eyes of the man who had purchased from him that afternoon followed. He had come sometime earlier and found a good table. With the foreknowledge that the runesmith and his companion planned to make the Cabaret their destination, and not wishing to look as though he had followed them it was best to be there when they arrived. When Master Kilvin was far enough that he wouldn't notice, the customer stood and moved over to the redhead. His smile was genuine and not overly ingratiating as he met the copper colored eyes and offered a nod of recognition.

"A good evening to you," He said, once he was close enough to be heard over both the song being sung on stage and the conversation below, "I believe we met earlier."

[Aurin]

Aurin hated Torin leaving, but he did love to watch him walk away. One might think a blacksmith would be top-heavy, but he ensured his boy had to do quite a bit of lifting from the floor, using his knees to protect his back, and they went on fairly regular journeys into the wilderness to get away from the city and get fresh air and exercise. And privacy.

His tricks were in effect, as always, albeit not reaching out so much as obfuscating, presenting a version of himself that he wanted people to see. Through glamourie, he light caught just so in his eyes, on his bright smile, just the right hue to offset his complexion, and his aura calm, his magics inverted. He didn't need a trick to notice the eyes upon him; he had been prey too many times in life not to retain those instincts, though he had become a predator and sometimes scavenger over the intervening years.

The normal smirk was softened into something more akin to a welcoming smile. At the Velvet, rank was oft ignored. All the same, he nodded respectfully.

"My lord," he greeted. "Fancy meeting you here. Enjoying the spectacle?"

His eyes skittered over to the aerial performers contorting prettily in rings spinning suspended from the ceiling, but then, his eyes found the broad line of Torin's shoulders, the light catching in his hair, and those hips that felt just right in his greedy grip.

"I would offer a drink, but young Lord Torin has already gone to the bar..." It wasn't a lie. He would have plied the man with drinks—and more—in order to turn him around and find places to lay in his hooks. If their Avialae overlords didn't fuck things up, he was well on his way to having a fair puppet show of players in this setting.

[Torin Kilvin]

"I am." He demurred, amused as he cast an eye towards the stage and then in the direction the young runesmith had wandered, then back at the redhead "Some more than others."

Lifting the mug in his hands in a salute he waved away the offer with the other, "I've just started on this one, but maybe you'll let me stand you a round later in the evening."

They both seemed as interested in the tall blond as they were in the skilled performers, which didn't seem to both either of them. The newcomer inverted his aura quite well, but not so well that a Master couldn't pierce it. It showed his relaxation tinged with excitement which was general, and his lusted interest, which was specific.

"That boy," He nodded towards the bar, "He's quite extraordinary, isn't he?" It wasn't a compliment, but an actual question, presented to one who seemed to know the answer. After he got it he added,

"And he's yours, isn't he?" It wasn't coy, though there was a little of what might have been flirtation but was more like titillation in his tone. This was a place where one could ask such questions with a reasonable expectation of being understood.

While they were chatting Torin waited, perhaps too politely, as others jostled and called out their orders ahead of him. The bartender knew him, and knew his tendency to wait his turn as others cut ahead of him so singled him out after taking care of a few of the more insistent comers. He asked if Master Kilvin wanted his usual, which he did, and Aurin's usual as well. They were handed over quickly and he held them aloft as he made his way back.

[Aurin]

Aurin acknowledged the hint with a smile and eyes lowered as he sipped the drags of his drink. It was rare to see him looking away; he tended to look a man in the eye, directly confronting. But when he did look away, the light caught on lashes longer than one might imagine. He was hardly a coquette.

"No man is so rich he should turn down a friend," he said lightly, "or a generous drinking companion."

His gaze cut to Torin, imagining him for a moment as a caryatid holding up a temple. He smiled, and it rounded back upon the man.

"Body, mind, and soul," he agreed. Then, lest there be confusion, "Extraordinary. And mine. A common orphan when he arrived in Kalzasi three years ago. Now a master smith and runeforger, as well as a landholder under House Leukos, which is sworn to Great House Briathos. I suppose you could say I am a talented nurturer of talent. Are you extraordinary, my lord?" he asked. "Body, mind, or soul? And do you want to be mine, or do you want what's mine?"

This was, indeed, a place where one could speak out of turn, and having managed it, Aurin was quite deft at toeing the line, as well as knowing how to dance across it and back without incurring wrath. After all, the man was being forthright enough; Aurin would do him the honor of reciprocating.

But then Torin was there, and Aurin's hand came to massage the nape of his neck in clear possession, his other accepting his drink. "Ah, good boy. My lord, you know Master Torin Kilvin. And Torin, your lofty client..." But he hadn't caught the man's name. Perhaps it wouldn't matter.

[Torin Kilvin]

The newcomer lifted his brows at the idea of the runesmith ever having been a 'common' anything. It was a good story though, which he could appreciate whether it was true or not.

His face became an amused consideration when he was asked if he, in turn was extraordinary. "I have my talents but they're nowhere near so great as his, nor, I think, as yours."

Dark eyes met copper ones briefly as the nobleman's appreciative gaze drifted over Aurin in a compliment. The wide blond returned, settling himself near to the redhead so automatically it was quite pretty to watch.

"I don't particularly want to belong to anyone, though true freedom is a subject for philosophers. Nor do I want to take what is yours. Perhaps borrow, or merely observe your mastery of the subject?"

There was no reason not to continue the conversation, simply because it's subject had arrived. Nodding to said subject he raised his glass in greeting.

Torin was surprised but not displeased to see a client outside of work, not this one, at least.

"Lord Byres," He answered the silent greeting, "I hope my work was as hoped."

"Oh, it was." The noble replied, "Quite. Your friend and I were just discussing him showing me some of his work, perhaps letting my try my hand at it. This is the place for such things, and I would be more than willing to compensate Master Kavafis for his time and the use of his property. I may not have many extraordinary skills but a full purse is within my ability, if that's something you think the two of you might enjoy, in whatever way you do."

Some people enjoyed not enjoying sex, or enjoyed pain as a part of their sex play and Byres had reason to believe that thus was the case with the solid lad.

[Aurin]

"Well, if you change your mind on that score..." he let the words trail off as his gaze trailed down in a reciprocal sort of admiration. But Torin was back and business was being discussed, it seemed. He didn't boast that the man, for all his fortune and blue blood, couldn't take Torin from him, though he would not have minded if he had been the sort of lord who wished to be a slave behind closed doors. That was something he could certainly work with.

Aurin didn't truly need money. He had plenty squirreled away in secret caches as well as banks, coded into investments and a ledger of favors owed, and even if he hadn't, he could have lived off of Torin's wealth and the obliging wunderkind would never have complained should they live together for a thousand years. But Aurin did like to keep Torin unbalanced from time to time, never unsure of his affections, of the enduring bond that he only spoke of in the heated darkness, but walking into the new and the unknown with perfect faith in his ginger guide.

This was certainly a route he had considered more than once, even teased Torin with the mere possibility, sussing the truth of his reactions, emotional as well as physical.

As client and artisan spoke, Aurin sipped his new drink. Then, as the lord spoke rightfully to the artisan's master, he offered a Cheshire grin.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private to discuss the possibilities, my lord?" he asked of Byres. Pushing off the wall, he gave Torin's chin a nudge with his knuckles, hazel eyes alight with something.

To Torin, "Come along, boy."

With a familiar hand upon Byres' shoulder he led him toward a curtained hallway. His fingers made a strange signal as they approached and the well-oiled bouncer let them through, holding back the curtain for his old manager. Aurin made charming small talk as he walked the lordling into a room redolent of incense with mirrored walls artfully revealed or hidden behind heavy velvet curtains. The low table was also mirrored, doubling the hookah that rested there, primed and ready should they require it.

Aurin didn't bother looking behind, knowing Torin would follow. Instead, he eased Byres down into a comfortable seat beside him on the divan. But once seated and once Torin had timidly shut the door behind him, Aurin's eyes leveled upon him.

"Put your drink down. Take off your clothes. Lord Byres wants to see my wares."